


Best Bad (Birth) Day

by Sinistretoile



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday, Bucky Barnes Feels, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: Plans change for Bucky's birthday when he's having a bad day.





	Best Bad (Birth) Day

She knew something was wrong when she woke up and his side of the bed was not only empty, but cold. She was used to waking up alone. Bucky was an Avenger. And a combat vet. As well as a prisoner of war. Sometimes he didn’t sleep well. Sometimes he didn’t sleep. Most of the time, he would lay in bed and stare at the ceiling or out the window. The other times, he was too restless to lay beside her and he’d go to the living room to write or watch the Science Channel or Discovery Channel or he’d go down into the basement and hit the heavy bag.  
She slipped out of bed, pulling on her cream satin robe. She padded barefoot through the kitchen. The TV was off and the basement door was closed. But she found him…sitting on the back porch steps. His service dog Howie had his solid body draped across Bucky’s lap and the big man was draped over his back, his face buried in his fur.  
She swallowed and turned away from moonlit window, walking to the bedroom to retrieve her phone. She opened the group text. ‘Change of plans, guys. Bad day.’ Then she messaged Steve. He wouldn’t be back to bed so she wouldn’t have to pretend to be asleep. He would know she wasn’t by her heartbeat anyway… That’s how he told he loved her. That he knew her heartbeat above everyone and anyone else.

Bucky had come back in after she’d finally managed to get back to sleep. He’d showered and dressed quietly then took Howie for his morning walk. The smell of cinnamon rolls pulled her from sleep. Again, she found his side empty and cold. She pulled her robe back on and padded barefoot into the kitchen.  
“Morning, baby.” She slipped her arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. Shuri had done wonders on his arm. The fusion of the black vibranium arm to his shoulder was much better than the old vibranium and the mass of scar tissue Hydra had gifted him with. There were still scars but they were finally healing. He’d always have pain from what they did to him but Shuri, the angel, made it easier to cope with now that he had a lighter arm.  
“Morning, sugar.” His flesh hand covered hers. He turned slightly so he could kiss her forehead.  
“Aren’t I supposed to cook breakfast for the birthday boy?”  
“I wanted to make up for last night.”  
“Last nigh-“  
“I know you got up. I know you saw me. I know you probably had a helluva time going back to sleep.”  
She shrugged. “It’s alright.” She squeezed him. “Are you alright?” It was his turn to shrug.  
“Come on. Let’s have breakfast. I made your favorite. Bacon cinnamon rolls.”  
She laughed and it brought a smile to his sad face. “You mean, you made your favorite of my favorites.” He turned in her arms. Her palms rubbed up his bare back then down his chest. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the touch. It had taken him so long, too long, to be able to be touched without flinching, to enjoy it and savor it. He craved it a lot of the time. After he was able to be touched, he was touched starved. He constantly touched her and held her. He was embarrassed at first but she’d eased that by telling him she’d give him anything, anything at all, he needed to feel comfortable and loved and safe.  
She cradled his face in her hands. “Happy birthday, Buck.”  
He smiled sadly, his eyes mournful and lost. “Thanks, doll.” He closed his eyes as their lips met. He reached up and over her forearms to hold her face in both his hands, deepening the kiss. He broke before he became desperate.  
The doorbell rang followed by a knock. Then the front door opened. “Anyone home?”  
Bucky rested his forehead on hers. “You called Steve?”  
“Maybe…” She smiled. He smiled back, a little wider than before. He wanted to be mad but he knew she did it because she loved him and she was worried. And because he needed it. They pulled apart as Steve stepped into the kitchen, Howie on his heels.  
“Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.”  
“Morning, Mr. Rogers.” She giggled. “Care to join us for breakfast?”  
“If there’s enough.”  
“There’s always enough, punk. Sit down.” Steve pulled up a chair at the table.  
“Coffee, Stevie?”  
“Please, sweetheart.”  
She placed a cup in front of him, black like he liked it. She made hers light and sweet and Bucky’s dark and sweet. Bucky dished up the cinnamon rolls. And they all eat breakfast in comfortable silence.  
“Any plans today?”  
“I hope not.” Bucky stood and collected their dishes, loading them in the machine. She and Steve exchanged a glance. Howie stood from his bed and bumped Bucky’s hand. He sighed and scratched the bull mastiff’s head. “I’m fine, boy.”  
“Unless the missus has your time monopolized today, I was wondering if you wanted to go for ride.”  
Bucky looked over his shoulder at her and Steve. She smiled at him. “Go.”  
“You sure?”  
“It’s your birthday, baby.”  
“Let me get dressed. Mind if we take Howie?”  
“Not at all.”  
Fifteen minutes later, she was standing on the porch waving them off, Howie in the sidecar on Bucky’s Indian. She watched them until they rounded the corner and were out of sight before she headed into the house and got to work.

Steve and Bucky’s motorcycles rumbled down the quiet, night street. They’d spent the entire day riding and talking and letting Howie run. It felt good. It felt normal. He felt normal. They rolled into the driveway and killed the engines.  
The living room light shown through the sheer curtains on the picture window. “Thanks for today, Steve.”  
“No need to thank me, Buck. You’re my best friend. I’m with ya til the end of the line.” They walked up to the house. Steve clapped his shoulder. “It’s not me you need to thank though.”  
Bucky smiled and looked at the front door. He could hear music…his music from the 40s playing softly inside. He knew Steve could too. He could also hear her humming along to it. And he could hear her heartbeat, the only heart that mattered to him…aside from Steve’s. He could hear another smaller heartbeat, soft but rapid. He smiled. She’d gotten another puppy. He’d pretend to be surprised. “How’d I get so lucky, Steve?”  
“I don’t know, pal. But you deserve it.” Bucky knew better than to argue with Steve or his wife about whether or not he was deserving of the happiness he had. “I’m gonna go. Let you two spend some time together.”  
Bucky pulled Steve into a tight, crushing hug. Steve hugged back just as tightly. They’d always have each other. They’d always be there for the other no matter what this life threw at them. There was always Bucky and there was always Steve. Bucky and Howie watched Steve rumble off down the road before turning to the door.  
Could this have been what life was meant to be fifty years ago? Coming home to a house in the suburbs with his beautiful wife waiting for him? He’d never know but it was what he had now and he couldn’t ask for anything more. He opened the door and stopped. She had decorated the living room in streamers and balloons. There was a vintage style banner that read ‘Happy Birthday, Buck!’ He swallowed, feeling like a heel for skipping out on his own party. Howie jogged around him into the kitchen.   
“Hey, bubba! Where’s your daddy? I heard him and Uncle Steve pull up out front.” She didn’t sound upset. Howie huffed from the kitchen. “Buck? You in there?”  
“Yea, doll baby.”  
“Well, come in here. My hands are busy.”  
“Coming, doll.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and walked into the darkened kitchen. She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter. A birthday cake with three candles glowed in front of her.  
“Happy birthday, baby.”  
“Doll.”  
“Come blow out your candles so I can give you your present.” He noticed the decorations carried on in the kitchen, streamers and balloons. But there were only two plates and two forks sitting on the counter.  
“I’m sorry I ruined my party.”  
“What?” She laughed. “You didn’t ruin anything.”  
“Don’t lie, doll baby.”  
“Buck.” They stared at each other before she finally relented. “Yes, I had a party planned. But when I saw you this morning, I knew you couldn’t do it. So I cancelled it. Everyone is bringing your gifts over tomorrow. I called Steve because I knew you needed him. But I still wanted you to have a party.” She walked around the counter. His eyes drank in her form in the vintage dress, white with a cherry print with white lace layered underneath. Her breasts looked bigger in that dress. She looked amazing. Right out of a dream.  
“Doll, you look amazing.” He rested his hands on her hips. “You are amazing.” She blushed and looked down but wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You didn’t have to do this.”  
“I wanted to.”  
“I don’t deserve you.” She kissed him to shut him up. He sighed into the kiss and pulled her closer, losing himself in her. “Thank you, sweetheart. This is perfect. This is…the best birthday a fella like me could ask for.”  
“It’s not over yet, baby. You need to open your present.”  
“Oh I intend to.” He smirked and it was positively lecherous. She laughed, throwing her head back in delight. He kissed her throat and reached for the zipper of her dress, more than ready to get her out of it.  
“Buck!” She spun out of his arms, catching him by surprise. “My pussy is not your present.”  
“It’s not?” He looked genuinely confused then he remembered the smaller heartbeat. The new puppy.  
“Blow out your candles first.” He sighed then tucked his hair behind his ear then blew out the trio of flickering flames. She flicked the light on and handed him an envelope.  
He took it carefully, his brows knitting in confusion. “This is it?”  
“Yea, open it.” She tilted her head to the side, perplexed by his confusion. He looked around the room for the box with the puppy in it. But it was just her, him and Howie. He opened the envelope and pulled out the card. It was a blank white card. Inside was written ‘Happy birthday, daddy. Can’t wait to be there next year.’ He turned the card to see the glossy, grainy black and white sonogram picture. He could make out the image of a fetus, big head, tiny hands and even tinier not quite fingers.  
“Is this-“ His head snapped up, eyes wide. She chewed her lip, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “This isn’t a puppy.” She shook her head. “This is a baby.” She nodded. “Our baby.” She grinned, nodding again. “I’m gonna be a father.”  
“Yes.”  
He dropped the card onto the counter. “I’m gonna be a father!” She screamed in surprise as he swept her up and spun her around. “How? I mean I know how how but I thought I couldn’t.”  
“Hydra didn’t sterilize you. They had planned to use you, breed you like a fucking animal.” She practically spit her disgust. “The freezing and thawing wasn’t ideal for your testicles. But your boys are alive and kicking.”  
“How do you know all this?”  
“I might not be an Avenger but when Bucky Barnes’s wife shows up at the compound pregnant, they scramble like roaches when the lights come on.” He laughed, shaking his head.  
“And everything’s ok? With you and with the baby?” Fear clouded the joy in his eyes.  
“We’re both fine. I had some morning sickness while you were away on mission a couple weeks ago. But it’s been surprisingly easy for a first time pregnancy. Or so I’ve read.”  
Bucky rested his hand on her belly. He could feel the heartbeat through her stomach, amazed he hadn’t noticed it before now. He could feel the baby moving in small flutters. Tears stung his eyes. “Doll, I…I don’t…” He swallowed then met her eyes. He left his flesh on her belly and cupped her cheek in his metal one. “I love you.”  
“I love you too, Buck.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed, flicking the light off as they passed. This was the best bad birthday a guy could ask for. And it wasn’t over yet.


End file.
